Lock down
by ragabeubeu
Summary: Sets during season 2, after Bad Blood; Kellerman and Sara wake up handcuffed to each other with no memory of what put them here, it's the perfect occasion to settle some issues One shot, maybe more
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note **

**Okay, so this is probably a one shot, could be more, depends on what you think, anyway, it's inspired by an episode of Castle, couldn't get some sleep after that so I decided the situation would fit Kellerman and Sara.**

**Don't own any characters of the show, this fic is made purely for fun, enjoy and review !**

...

The room was almost completely dark when Sara opened her eyes, so when she did, she had to wonder if her eyes were still shut.

Was she dreaming ? She didn't recall going to sleep, and she certainly didn't recall going to sleep in _**that**_ room, a dark space that she had never seen before. It wasn't until then that she realized that she hardly remembered anything at all. _Okay, let's not panic,_ although she found that not panicking was rather difficult when you wake up in a room you've never seen before, only lighted by a small, _**small**_ window that barely allowed the presence of daylight. Her first reflex was to try to make a coherent idea out of all this, but all thoughts she could come up with ended up reminding her of a few urban legends her girlfriends had told her about during summer camp. And none of those ended well.

It only took her a mere shudder, the slightest move from herself to realize that she wasn't alone, a shiver running down her spine, her body immediately moving, making her realize the presence of a steel bracelet around her wrist, that was bonded to a motionless, probably asleep, man, lying next to her.

She looked at him more closely and couldn't hold back a gasp in horror and recognition. What the hell was _**he**_ doing here ? _**Him**_ of all men in the world ? This could be no coincidence, for all she knew he had put her there. Yeah, but how ? Oh ! He had _drugged_ her, which would explain the blur she found when she tried to remember anything at all, and the insistent headache. But he, apparently, had been drugged too, why drug himself ? Hell, why _handcuff_ himself to a woman whom he had tortured and who had tried to strangle him -the strangulation marks were still visible on his neck- and who had just a few days ago locked the car door on him before he could join them, leaving him behind while their car rolled away ?

After thinking it through a little while longer, she recognized that it wasn't much likely that Paul Kellerman was behind all this, still she slipped her not cuffed hand in the pocket of his jacket, searching for a key. _Better make the most out of it before he wakes up. _

She couldn't hold back a small cry of surprise and fear as his fist closed on her small wrist, suddenly appearing much stronger and deadly than the cuff around her other hand.

Not a second later she was flipped over and pinned under his whole weight, his free hand on her throat, blocking the oxygen.

Until his eyes on her finally seemed to see her.

"Sara ?" He let out, not angry, not even annoyed, just simply, purely surprised. He released the grip on her neck immediately, her free hand went to her throat to check on the damage, Paul opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but if he was, all apology was lost because she violently pushed him off her, the handcuff bonding them together causing her to roll on top of him before she landed on the ground, flat on her back, next to him.

She didn't move for a second, catching her breath, before she, reflexively tried to get up, but fell right back as her hand tied to his kept her to the ground.

"What the hell did you do to us ?" She accused him with all the hatred she felt.

"What, you think I did this ?" He said with a laugh, she didn't know if he sounded more angry or amused.

"Well I certainly didn't do it" She said sharply, "And if I recall correctly you're the one who works with handcuffs, not me."

He simply laughed again, not with the slightest ounce of humor, as he abandoned his lying down position to sit, one knee and the palm of one hand on the floor to balance himself as he moved closer to the young woman, close enough for her to clearly see the blue glimmer of his eyes in spite of the darkness of the room; his move made her lose balance a little bit and she had to move backwards not to fall, which left him, leaning down on top of her.

"I didn't do this" He spoke slowly, each word thoroughly separated from the next.

She felt awfully nervous being this close to him, so close that she could feel his breath on her face, in fact she was pretty sure she had never been this close to him, not even back in New Mexico. She swallowed with difficulty, her nervousness obviously wasn't a secret to him and it didn't seem to disturb him either, on the contrary it seemed to amuse him, so instead she turned her head away, as far as she could get from him since they were bounded by a ten centimeters chain, and decided she'd simply avoid any contact with him.

Of course, things didn't go this easy.

"Sara ?" He repeated for the umpteenth time, "Sara ?"

She ignored him, she knew that from the time she had been avoiding him it really wasn't subtle anymore but she didn't care, she would just sit there, avoiding all sorts of contacts with her only human companion, until she could gather one single coherent thought about today, or was it yesterday ?

"Sara ?"

"You are disturbing my thinking" She retorted coldly.

"Well _thinking_ isn't going to do much to get us out of here" Paul replied, and she didn't need to look at him to know that he was mocking her, "Tell me, Sara, what's your plan exactly ? Wait for Scofield to come and rescue you ?"

"I'm trying to remember who put us here" She replied as sharply as she could manage.

"Again" He pursued his mocking, "Won't do much to get us out of here."

"And what's your plan, Paul ?" She replied, still angry and absolutely not interested in finding out what his plan was.

"Oh, ok, I see" He said, "You're still mad about earlier, fine, I'll say, I'm sorry I tried to strangle you, Sara, I would have said it sooner, but you'll admit it, it's kind of ridiculous given our history."

She exhaled loudly in frustration as he mentioned her failed attempt to kill him days earlier.

"Well I am not sorry" She simply replied, "You had it coming."

"I most certainly did" He approved, smiling with a smile empty of all trace of humor, "Now that we settled that detail, could we please try to focus and work together on this ? We could start by getting some light in here, I think I saw a switch on the opposite wall."

"You _**saw**_ it ?" She said arching an eyebrow, her tone full of accusations given the fact that they could hardly see anything in the room, even less a small switch on a wall at the end of the room.

"Well it's worth the try, are would you rather sit here and keep waiting for your boyfriend ? I think it's been proved by now that sometimes no matter how much you wait he just won't show."

She sighed in annoyance, biting her tongue to not tell him to go to hell, she knew that this situation wasn't at its worse, because, for now, none of them had tried to gain control yet, and she really wasn't curious to find out who would get control over who and she was silently praying it wouldn't come to this.

So instead of replying something that probably wouldn't be smart to say, she swallowed her pride and got up, following him until they reached the other wall, at first even walking was rather difficult, she decided that not getting along on anything with a someone makes it terrible to be handcuffed to that same someone.

"I think I got it" Paul said just a second before a small lamp hanging from the ceiling lit up the room.

The room was rather small, it looked ancient, all the walls were made of wood, and it looked like the only way out was by a door, that they found out to be, obviously, locked.

"Great" Sara said, "That's just how I dreamt of spending the week-end, really."

"Hey how come you're the only one who gets to complain here ? You think I'm enjoying this maybe ?"

"I don't know, Paul, if you enjoy spending the day in the bathroom of a crappy motel, then this really looks like your type."

"You know what ?" He said and his tone led her to believe that he was no longer amused, "You're right, let's get this whole Gila thing out of the way before this situation gets awkward."

"_**Before**_ it gets awkward ?" Sara glared at him.

"I told you before" He said speaking extremely slowly, as if he was talking to a child, "It wasn't personal, get this inside your stubborn little head and let's find a way out of here."

"Oh you're right, Paul" She said ironically, "I'm stubborn, God forbids, I mean you're a sadistic ruthless murderer but how can you compete with stubborn ?"

"You could add annoying, immature and hypocrite to your list."

"I'm not a hypocrite !"

"You're not going to deny 'annoying' and 'immature' ?" He mocked with a humorless smile.

"And what, if I may ask, have I ever done to annoy you ? I could write a book with all the reasons I have to hate you, what have I ever done to you ?"

"You..." He didn't finish his sentence, somewhere deep down he knew he wasn't mad at her for the murder attempt, hell, that only made him respect her more, and maybe he wasn't even mad about her leaving him behind, truthfully -even though he'd never admit to it- he knew that the only thing that had ever got him angry, furious against her, was that she had been ready to let herself die for Michael Scofield. He remembered how angry he was back then, in Gila, in that motel room, as he tried to talk some sense into her, he had never gotten this involved but he couldn't help but yell at her, just so she would hear him, it just got him so worked up, how could she not realize that she was going to die if she didn't talk ? And then he understood, the second he saw the look on her face he understood, she knew she was going to die, and she was willing to. And that thought had made him beyond angry, he wanted to yell at her about throwing her life away, about how stupid she was being, about how Scofield didn't give a damn about her but she didn't care, because her love for him was beyond this. And this simple thought was what had given him the anger he needed to follow the orders, which was why the present situation was particularly awkward, and frankly almost ridiculous.

"How dare you even say that ?" She said disturbing him in his thoughts, "You're the king of the hypocrites, you _**lie**_ for a living !"

"And at least I admit it, which makes me less hypocrite than you." He replied, and normally he wouldn't be the type to fight this childishly but he was too angry to repress it.

"And how am I a hypocrite ?" She said murdering him with her eyes.

"Easy" He looked at her the same way, "You keep describing how terrible I am, 'what kind of person would lie like that' and all, when you're dating someone who's not much different than me, and before you remind me of all the people I've hurt why don't you ask your boyfriends how many people have been killed or hurt because he wanted his brother safe, starting with you. And this is what makes you a hypocrite."

The second he finished his sentence he realized that he really shouldn't have. She was never going to work with him now.

...

"What do you want, exactly ? An _**apology**_ ?" He almost spat the word and she could tell how ridiculous he thought that would be.

She didn't answer. Maybe, she thought, answering to herself silently, maybe an apology would make it easier, but not like this, not like she knew he'd apologize, not when he didn't mean it, or, even if he did, pretended not to.

"What the hell make you think I want anything from you ?" She replied, her back to him, keeping herself as far from him as possible.

"Well then can you please try to think and be smart for once ? None of this childishness is going to do anything for us..."

"Fine" She cut him turning back at him, "You want us to work as a team ? Stop annoying me."

"Fine," He replied using the same tone she had, "you'd have to tell me what annoys you about me."

"I'd be too long."

"I don't have any appointment" He mocked.

"I'm serious, it'd be too long." She said, and normally he wouldn't care but she sounded very serious.

"Well go ahead" He finally said, "I'm curious to hear what you think about me, when you don't disguise everything you say behind that well behaved over polite little girl mask you wear constantly."

"All right" She said only because he had reached a whole new level of annoyance to her, "I think that you are trying so hard to be a cold, emotionless, remorseless man that it eats you alive, and that sometimes from time to time you don't even remember why you try, I think that you're damaged, because nobody's born a monster and like all monster you're just a wounded person who thinks like so many people that when you become a predator you can stop being a victim. I think that whatever reason you chose to do the job you do is only an excuse like any other that you serve to your victims and to yourself, a fake empty reason to understand the things you do, and I think you are so careful not to dig the surface to that reason, because if you do you're going to have to admit to yourself that there's nothing there. You're a liar, you're a fraud, you're so dedicated to be whatever it is they taught you to be that you don't even know who you are anymore, and above all, I think that under all your cocky and self assured answers you have to everything, and behind your attitude of being so sure of everything, you know nothing."

He stared at her for a while, Sara wasn't sure whether he was furious or admiring her, she couldn't tell, she only knew that her assumptions had probably got to him, or else he'd already be mocking her right now.

Instead he deepened his gaze on her, not wearing the slightest shadow of a smile as he finally talked back.

"Now, was that so hard ?"

...

"Come on, let's try to solve this piece by piece, what's the last thing you remember doing ?"

Sara closed her eyes, trying to think of anything coherent but everything was kind of a blur to her right now. And Kellerman rushing her wasn't helping. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this, cooperating, a week ago she hated Michael for letting this man work with them, and now she was doing the same. But, she considered she had an excuse, because it's pretty hard to keep hating someone when you're handcuffed to him.

"Uh..." She said shaking her head, "I... I remember waking up yesterday..." At least she assumed it was yesterday, "and then I..." She bit her lip, trying vainly to clear the mess in her head, "I'm sorry" she said, "You remember anything ?"

"Neither" He answered, "We must have been drugged."

_No shit, Sherlock Holmes. _

"But why put us here together ?" Sara said.

"Maybe the company got tired of us and tried to kill two birds with one stone."

"So you think they'll be coming back to finish the job ?"

"Or they're just gonna leave us here, I mean, we'll die eventually."

"Yeah, but if it's them, why kidnap us simply to let us die ? We have information, don't we ?"

"Do you ?"

She gave him an unsure look, as if she was trying to test his truthfulness.

"Like I'd tell you" She said and he rolled his eyes up.

They were both silent for a moment.

"Hey" Sara finally said, "You think I can reach that window ?"

"Don't think so" He answered, "It's too high."

"It's not too high if I get on your shoulders."

He arched an eyebrow with a bemused smile.

"And how are you going to do that ?" He said.

After a while she realized that it was indeed a real challenge to climb on somebody's shoulders while being handcuffed to that same person.

"Well maybe if you lift your hand a little higher" She suggested, while she tried to move from her compromising position -her right knee paused on his shoulder while she tried to find balance with her other leg.

"I _**can't**_ lift my hand higher" He said frustrated, "My hand cannot go any higher."

"Well then neither can I" She replied.

"Well then maybe one of us is going to have to cut off his hand, now I'm not suggesting anyone in particular, but since yours is smaller..."

"Oh shut up" She said as she managed to pass her other leg around his neck.

"Hey outch !" He said, "You know ? This isn't nearly as fun as I thought it would be, turns out there's nothing fun in you walking all over me."

"It's not supposed to be fun" She said in annoyance as she realized they weren't making progress, "Okay just put me down."

He didn't protest and put her back on her feet.

"Okay, this isn't helping." She said.

"Well maybe if you try by behind."

"You better not be enjoying this"

"You kidding ? I'm gonna have bruises shaped like your feet."

"Stop being a baby" She said taking a grip at his shoulders to pull herself up, "Hey help me there, try to lift my legs a little bit- hey ! I said my legs you pervert !"

"It was an accident !"

"Like hell it was" She rolled her eyes up, but decided that it wasn't that important as she finally managed to get a grip at the window, "I got it" she said trying to lift it up, first she was relieved to see there was no lock, but then she realized there was no handle. She certainly couldn't open it, it wouldn't have gotten them for anyway, because the window was too small for her to escape through it, but it could have given her a glimpse of where they were held.

"I can't see anything." She said, as she tried to wipe the dust off the window with her not cuffed hand, "Oh" she let out in a gasp as she finally managed to glance outside.

"What 'oh' ?" Kellerman said.

"Uh... I think we're on a boat."

"A boat ?" He lost his grip on her leg which caused her to lose balance making both of them fall back on the ground, their limbs interspersed.

"Ah ! You landed on my foot !" She complained trying to lift herself up uselessly as she just kept ending up back on the floor.

"What do you mean we're on a boat ?" He said ignoring her.

"I mean there's only ocean all around !" She said, "Now can I please have my foot back ?"

"You trampled on my shoulders and my neck for fifteen minutes, your foot got what it deserved."

Once they both managed to separate themselves from each other as much as possible, they knew it was time to be serious.

"A boat ?" Paul repeated after a while, "I had gotten the idea that we were on a moving vehicle but... a boat ?"

"I don't know what to tell you" Sara said, shaking her head, as surprised as he was. "Why are they keeping us here ?" She finally said, and strangely, she thought he had the answer to this.

"I don't even know who they are." He said.

"Yeah, and we don't even know what drug they used on us"

"Not the good kind."

"Oh shut up" She sighed but couldn't hold back a weak little smile. She bit her lip before she suddenly thought of something.

"Maybe we could just..." He started talking but she interrupted him.

"Lift your shirt up." She said and he couldn't help but look at her with wide eyes.

"Come again ?"

"I'm feeling something in my back, it was kind of numb earlier, but now I think I know what it is, can you just..." She lifted the fabric of his shirt up slightly, as he unintentionally shivered at her touch, while examined his back, confirming her assumptions.

"That's what I thought, needle mark. We _were_ drugged, damn it." She said roughly putting his shirt back in place.

"What ?" He mocked, "You think it'll count on your AA program ?"

"Oh shut up" She said to angry to notice that the little smile on his face wasn't mocking her.

He wasn't sure concerning what made him smile, maybe it was the sight of Sara getting all worked up about something she couldn't change _**at all**_, maybe it was the simple comic of the entire situation itself.

"What are you smiling about ?" She said turning her anger to him. He shrugged innocently, while she used her free hand to rearrange her long locks of hair, he had noticed she did that when she was nervous, and he'd like to say it didn't get to him, that _she_ didn't get to him; he really shouldn't have taken the Sara Tancredi job, he should have focused on finding some other lead, _anything_, he shouldn't have gotten this close to her, he shouldn't have talked with her sincerely, he shouldn't have let it get this _personal_. He should have known, but on the other hand, how could he have known ? No one, no mission as personal as they could get, had ever got through to him like she had, and he should have known, he had always had a thing for redheads...

"Is it me or is it getting cold in here ?" She said getting him out of his reverie.

"Uhm..." He said with a shrug, "Maybe we reached the Antarctic."

"Funny" She said glaring at him, while she held herself, trying to warm herself up, but unintentionally bringing his hand along. She looked at him in some kind of embarrassed/mortified expression, he didn't return it, instead he just smiled.

"Or we could still cuddle, Gorgeous" He didn't know where he got the nerves to say this, nor how he had came up with the pet name, but he decided that the priceless expression on her face was worth it.

"What ?" He added, enjoying every bit of the look on her face, "It's one way like another to warm up."

"Go sit over there" She ordered eying a corner of the room before she could realize how stupid it was considering that he was handcuffed to her, instead she ignored his mocking laughter, as she tried to get herself as far from him as possible.

"Come on" He said watching her struggle vainly, "It's kind of ridiculous, Sara."

"You know what ? Unless it's to tell me about some extraordinary plan to get out of here, I don't want to hear anything you'd say, so just shut up and..."

"Hey who made you the boss of us ?" He replied, still amused, still playing with her, "I don't recall naming you the _'Extremely Dangerous Hostage Situation'_ leader."

"Well one of us has to" She defended, "And I'm sure as hell not letting you be the boss of us."

"Well why not ?"

"I don't want a _tyrant_ as a leader" She said insisting on the word as he looked at her with bored yet amused eyes.

"This is getting a little old, don't you think ?" He said.

"Think what you want, Paul," She said, very serious and obviously still upset, "I won't let you lead us to our deaths."

He smiled for all answer, and for a while both of them were silent.

"You hungry ?" He finally spoke, "I think I got an energy bar somewhere..."

"I'm not eating anything you'd give me" She said as if it was obvious, "For all I know you're going to drug me again."

"Oh please, you're getting ridiculous" He said holding back the urge to roll his eyes up, "I did not do this to us."

"So you keep saying" She said.

"Besides, come on, would I drug an energy bar ?"

She gave him an unsure look, before she eyed the candy bar he had gotten out of his pocket.

"I'll eat half of it" He suggested smiling, enjoying how serious she was, "That way you'll know it's not poisoned."

"And you'll let me pick which half ?" She tested him.

"Oh" He held back a laugh, "So now I poisoned _half_ a candy bar."

"Don't know, maybe" She said on her defensive.

"Do you want the damn candy bar or not ?"

She hesitated, before shutting her mouth close and remaining silent, he took it as a yes and split the energy bar in two before handing her a half.

"Not the right half ?" He mocked at her hesitation.

"Oh shut up" She said taking the food he was handing her.

He shrugged.

"I guess it's a way of saying 'thank you'." He said testing her limits.

"I'm not..." She started furious before she just shook her head, giving up, "Just shut up." She said before biting into the candy bar he had offered her.

He laughed to himself. Maybe this _**was**_ going to be fun after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:**

Okay, so it's been ages since I wrote that story and I didn't really even intend to write a sequel but I got inspired all the sudden so here it goes, tell me what you think

….

She was a real snorer as it turned out. Though not the real annoying kind, that cute kind of snoring that's almost simply like breathing loudly only a tiny bit more marked – the sort of adorable kind, actually.

Paul Kellerman wasn't that kind of man – he wasn't even sure there was such a kind; he'd never been moved in front of a goddamn movie in his life. He remembered how his sister used to get all teary and weepy in front of films – _Bambi_ when they were growing up, later on _Titanic_ – and if it felt natural to comfort her it would have never occurred to him to be moved himself. What for? It was the same for anything most people found moving or cute, like – random example, first thing that pops into his head – _babies_. What the hell is that deal with dozens of strangers gathering around a goddamn baby? He could understand that you could be moved by your own baby – well, he couldn't really understand it but he could conceptualize it – but for people to get tearful eyes around some _stranger_'s baby? Right, say it was him people called crazy. What's so cute about a baby anyway? It's bald, it's small and it's drooling, it's basically like old people, only not so many persons gather around to exalt over old people, do they?

Nope; to find cute-branded behaviors or movies actually cute wasn't Paul Kellerman's type. It wasn't his type to actually find anything cute; cute just didn't enter his vocabulary. He was the kind of man that believed in the true definition of beauty, and at the very first degree – he believed in the kind of beauty that is so grand that it changes your way of seeing the world forever. He believed that it was scarce and not granted to anyone, in fact he was sure that most people spent their whole lives without truly seeing something beautiful – without seeing something _truly_ beautiful.

But cute, adorable? That just wasn't for him. Paul Kellerman didn't cry in front of movies and he didn't exalt in front of babies. So what the hell was wrong with him so that he'd actually find some snoring-breathing sound actually amusing and pleasant to hear? He paused for a second, and it was almost fear – pleasant to see and makes you smile, was that the definition of cute?

_Adorable_?

Oh no; no, no. Those were not for him, he'd decided this long ago. What did it change, really, if he could listen to that sound all night long – or was it day? He didn't know; he didn't care right now, right now he was watching Sara Tancredi slumbering peacefully – and he wasn't using the word peacefully lightly; in fact, that was half what amused him, that one could look so peaceful whilst caged in an unknown place by unknown people and handcuffed to a retired secret agent. Well, okay, he wasn't retired, they'd fired him, but he really couldn't think of this being relevant right now – except for maybe… Right, the reason why he'd been fired; the reason that was sleeping and sort-of-snoring and unwillingly keeping him up – though it wasn't because of the sound that he couldn't sleep; it was because he was looking at her and as strangely as it seemed he couldn't close his eyes.

A twenty nine year-old cute redhead reason.

She was on her defensive almost immediately when she awakened, and it wouldn't have surprised him a few hours ago only – maybe it was the image of her so peaceful that somewhat made him think he'd face a sweet obedient little girl in the morning.

"Good morning." He figured he was as well placed as any other – her, in this particular case – to start a conversation. "Did you sleep well?"

"No."

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

"I could barely close my eyes with you waving around." She muttered the rest of her sentence and he contended entirely shameless.

"I didn't move a single inch." He spoke with great phlegm and truthfulness – was she seriously inventing him annoying flaws?

"Sure you did. What is that exactly by the way, old reflexes from when you were still an agent?" She paused for a few seconds only before pursuing. "As little credible as it's going to sound, I really didn't mean that ironically."

He chuckled briefly before following her eyes on the high-placed small window.

"Is this daylight?" She asked him as if he'd know for some reason.

"I don't know. It could be, though figuring out what time it is isn't really going to help us get out of here."

"No, but it might help with my sanity." People go crazy faster without a time scale to hold onto.

"Hum." He pondered shortly and her flaming hair formed a half-circle like a red quickly swiveling blade in the air when she turned around.

"'Hum' as in you have an idea?"

He didn't restrain his smile when she quoted him.

"Oh Sara," he feigned being touched, "you know me so well."

"Don't call me that." She sounded halfway between offended and disgusted as he arched a brow.

"What, by your name? What tremendous unforgivable mistake of me."

"Well, I don't want _you_ to call me that."

"Oh, so I should call you nicknames now? Perhaps affective pet names?"

"If you even dare." She didn't finish her threat – what would have been the point in that? She was already furious and he was already pissed. No, no way, he figured, Sara Tancredi was not making him adopt the word adorable, although what she was doing was driving him out of his mind in a record time. In fact, they had to be absolutely wrong as two persons can be together for every word even her own name leaving his mouth annoyed her and the fact that it did unnerved him. It helplessly, unconsciously unnerved him; he kind of liked saying her name, the way the letters rolled in a perfect harmony – he'd never thought of how much he liked the name Sara before. _Sara_. If only the person wearing that name could be as harmonious and peaceful. _Of course_ she hated him saying the name because he loved saying it, her being true to her righteous self, she couldn't do differently than to hate it.

Sometimes, Paul Kellerman told himself the feeling she felt for this young woman were likely to be hate. Deep burning passionate hate. After all, what else could it be?

"Fine." He grinned humorlessly, only to mock her because she'd made it way too tempting the way she'd reacted about pet names. "What should I call you then?" He'd probably enjoyed calling her gorgeous as much as Sara and the thought made the mirthless smile stretch slightly as he began enumerating, very careful to be slow. "Angel, bright-eyes?" He paused just shortly. She'd kill him if he said 'sexy'. "Cupcake, princess?"

"Enough." Her voice was cold as she interrupted but he kept impassive; he could have gone on all day. "This is degrading."

"Allegedly affective nicknames are degrading?"

"Coming from you, yes."

"Well then, _Sara_, how am I going to call you?"

She didn't need to think a split second before answering.

"You won't."

She folded her knees against her stomach and shifted as far from him as he could with somewhat casualness as he rolled his eyes; he'd seen enough of her in a few hours to know that this was her defensive position.

"Great, and you're back to ignoring me. You know? I might have a very plausible idea why you and I were both locked here together." He was kind of hoping for some respond there but whatever. "It's because whoever did this must have known that if they'd locked you alone, you would have struggled until you found your way out, if they'd locked me alone same thing, but you and I _together_?"

She didn't answer still but he saw her clench her teeth; he knew he wouldn't need to wait long before obtaining a reaction.

"You know what?" She spoke coldly, still not looking at him and as far as possible. "I really hate that word too when you say it."

Of course she did.

"Well," the smile it drew out of him was humorless, "at least we agree on one thing."

Though it unnerved him still; maybe it was because he didn't hate the sound of it so much after all. Maybe he kind of liked the ring of it.

…

"You know what? I can't believe we're back to where we started off." It was about the hundredth time he tried unsuccessfully, and so he figured he ought to try plan B. The first stage he knew he needed to reach was getting her to talk to him, and knowing her the way he was starting to there was an infallible way for him to do that – though the perspective of exasperating her until she reacted didn't exactly sound mouthwatering. "So seriously?" He continued, "After all the progress we made yesterday, you're just back to sulking in silence?"

"Not sulking." She corrected coldly. "Ignoring you."

"Oh, so you'll wait until whoever locked us here comes back to kill you while your boyfriend's worried like death." There was always plan C, which was mentioning said boyfriend to get a reaction, rather brutal if he expected correctly too.

"Don't put Michael into this."

"I'm not, you are. Can't you realize every second you're wasting is a second where he'll wonder where you are?" All right, he didn't have to say this so mockingly – how come every time he tried to get her to work with him he always needed to say something like this?

She didn't laugh though or scowl with that offended expression; she remained cold and didn't look the slightest bit amused either.

"God," he repressed an eye-roll, "don't grow a sense of humor or anything."

"Love's that funny to you, Kellerman, really?"

"Well, if that's love between you and Scofield than yes, it is."

"Wow," she sounded so cold he could barely hear the obvious irony in her voice, "that's funny, you're a funny guy, Kellerman." She paused for a few seconds and the rest of her sentence though was humorless. "Nobody ever really loved you, did they?"

Here was that annoyance again. He had to hold back actually strangling her – he would have, but then it might have led her to believe she'd gotten it right or worse gotten to him. So instead he let that mirthless smile grow back on and stated.

"Nope, not even the bloodthirsty wolves that raised me."

"Oh, so you were raised?"

"Not all of us have wealthy invisible parents that pay us whatever we ask when we snap our fingers." He'd hit a sensible nerve; good, so had she.

Though there was his chance of getting her to work with him being blown away.

Fine then, he'd wait. He didn't have to beg her, he didn't even have to ask, the fear would soon do its work by itself and she'd be terrified enough to do anything in her power, including hearing him out, to run back to Scofield's arms.

She'd have to talk to him, eventually. It wasn't very complicated to figure out; there were stuck in a mysterious room after being drugged and abducted and he was her only human companion; she'd _have_ to talk to him, even if just to ask him if by the greatest chance he didn't have another candy bar available. Which he didn't.

"God I'm hungry." He spoke first, to himself; though it wasn't this kind of long-suffering sigh, more like a simple statement that really didn't express intense need.

Her answer came a few seconds after only.

"And this concerns me because?"

"Because, if we don't get anything to eat soon I'll eat you." He paused just for a few seconds before wondering. "I'm sorry, did this sound dirty? I really didn't mean it to."

"It didn't until you pointed it out." She still wasn't looking at him but she sounded less cold, it was at least that – he glanced at her, shifting in their back-to-back position a little to do so as if to assess if they'd made progress.

"You know, uh – I really didn't mean to say that thing I said about your father."

"Oh, so you meant it but you didn't mean to say it." At least it was an answer. "Because it wasn't enough for you to kill him, you actually have to criticize the way he raised me too."

This time it felt more like anger than annoyance.

"Damn it, Sara, I already told you I had nothing to do with your father's death."

"And you've been so truthful about everything so far."

That's it, he was really going to strangle her this time.

"I didn't kill your father, Sara, exactly _why_ would I be lying about that?" She didn't answer or even need to; she wasn't looking at him though it didn't mean she couldn't feel his eyes on her and he watched her jaw clench and chuckled lightly. "You know what?" He went on. "I think deep down you know I had nothing to do with his death."

"Oh, so what are you? My scapegoat?"

"No, you don't do it because you need to blame someone. You do it because it's me." He spoke with confidence.

"Excuse me?"

"You need to hate me." He simply stated. "It's not even about blaming, no you – you need to _hate_ me."

"You give yourself way too much credit, Kellerman."

"No, I don't think I do, because if I was wrong then you would have swallowed back your pride and emotions and actually worked on a plan to get out of here instead of stating quite thoroughly every reason you have to hate me."

"That's not what I did."

"That's exactly it." He contended. "So let me tell you Sara, or whatever it is you want me to call you, I _know_ you hate me. You do know what they say about that it's _unclear_ things that need to be said, right?"

A few seconds of silence set though she recovered quickly enough.

"If you're even insinuating that –"

"Insinuating isn't my type, Sara, as you may have noticed in the moments you've known me I hate to waste my time. I'm a much more direct type. So _princess_, I'll tell you what, you want to see your boyfriend again? Work with me, don't ignore me; the choice's simple really, you suck it up or you die, and since my life's physically bound to yours I'm going to have to force your hand a little on this. You just put your feelings aside, all right?" He dragged in a slow breath before continuing, somewhat differently. "And I'll do the same with mine."

Silence set again – she didn't have time to retort a single word before the door was suddenly slammed open for the first time since they'd gotten here and surprise outweighed the rest.

The man stood as straight as a statue as he stepped less than a foot in to simply put a tray of food on the floor and shut the door back shut.

"Hey wait!" Paul shouted – the door was thick but the slither between the bottom and the floor was thick enough for the sound carry if the guard was still in the corridor, maybe. Either way if he was going to attempt saying anything to determine who was abducting them it needed to be now and urgency spoke the words out loud. "Tell Caroline she's getting sloppy!"

At first nothing came, not a single sound, before the door was opened again and the same guard entered back in, further inside the room this time as he pulled out his nightstick and punched him a single time right in the face. Kellerman was used to hits and blows, the kind of jobs requires you to be used to those, but it didn't make them any less unpleasant.

Sara simply gasped at the proximity of the hit – the guard remained incredibly impassive as he ranged the bludgeon.

"Next time you try to show off the hit's for her."

The man disappeared out the door as fast as he'd come and she turned to Kellerman the second he was gone.

"God! What were you thinking?" There was only her to reproach him whilst checking on his injury – she hadn't left him much of a choice in the matter either, simply grabbed his face with both hands to get a clear view of the swelling. "Well, your nose's not broken, there's at least that. Bad news is your cheekbone took most of the hit." She sighed at her quick diagnosis, still studying his face as she asked, expecting an answer this time. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I'd determine whether those guys were company or not." He winced as he answered – what he hated most about hits was when it damages his senses; now, for example, it was sight.

And hearing, apparently, because Sara was still speaking yet he couldn't focus on a single word she said – his sight was blurry all around her, but she was close enough for her to distinguish her as clearly as usual. No, no he saw her _better_. He saw the medical-professional concern on her face and the lovely line it formed between her brows and he'd fantasize on kissing that spot later – he saw the red smooth hair scattered on her shoulders somehow gracefully and the way it framed her face… And her lips – he'd never noticed her lips before, this dark-pink shade that reminded him of wild roses; he'd noticed her eyes either – they didn't just look brown, in fact at the moment for some reason they almost looked like honey. It was the lighting, probably, or the angle, or the damn blow on the head – he'd just never seen things like this before. Never seen her like this before.

He'd found her attractive since the very first look, no before that, since he'd gotten her picture at work – but now… Maybe the hit hadn't damaged his sight after all, in fact maybe it was quite the opposite.

"Well," she diagnosed with her eyes focused on the injury, "normally you'd need stitches. Damn it, now you're going to leave blood everywhere."

"You're beautiful." His voice was weak but shameless.

"What?"

It wasn't the 'I didn't hear you' what. It was the 'what the hell did you just say' what. A lot of men had called her that before, but for some reason it sounded different from Paul Kellerman and not only because it was entirely inappropriate. Coming from him it sounded like more than a compliment; as if somehow he really meant it. As if you could mean the word more than others, it didn't make sense; it was just a word.

Beautiful.

…..

**End notes:**

That's it for now, hope you liked it. Anyway, I was thinking about writing a new fic with an original couple, so if you have ideas I'm all ears.

And by the way, if you liked this story, or any of my other stories, I just got my first novel published on Amazon, it's called _Red Storm _and it's under the name of Rachel Lapicque Thanks anyway, hoped you enjoyed the chap.


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